Need
by sexbell
Summary: The Character are not mine and i like to say a big thank to Tim for help with my story From Sara POV CathSara if you don't like then don't read
1. Chapter 1

NAME: Need

Author: Sexbell

Disclaimer: the characters in this story don't belong to me and thank to Tim for help me with this story

* * *

I don't know how I had grown to need her so much.One minute we were just colleagues, our relationship strictly professional, with all the distance and boundaries that mark interactions between co-workers. The next minute, I don't know what happened. On the surface, it's not as if anything has changed. We're still hidden from each other by the boundaries imposed by the job. But beneath the surface, something has changed, and I'm not entirely sure what it is, or whether it is just my imagination playing tricks on me. It's just that now, I need her in a way I've never needed anyone before, not even Grissom.I'm not sure Catherine even knows that. It's not as if I said anything to her about the way I feel. I can't quite tell if she's picked up on the way I turn to her for ideas, listen to her tentatively stated theories, the way I look to her to be at my side when things seem to be falling apart around me. I think maybe she knows, but I can't be sure she sees it as anything unremarkable. I don't know whether she has the slightest idea how hard it is for me to open up to anyone, or how hard it is for me to need anyone.There's that word again.

**NEED**

it's such a simple work, four little letters. One tiny syllable. But it's a frightening work. A powerful word when we think of powerful four lettrs words fuck or love are the ones that come to mind. They're the ones we consider dangerous or difficult.But they're so overused in our society that they've lost some of their potency. We use need all the time, but for trivial and mundane things. We say it when we really should be saying we want something. When we're talking about the things that aren't really necessities. It's as if we fear it, so we shy away from using it in a context where it means anything at all.And we rarely say outright that we need another person, unless we're talking about sex or lust. That most definitely isn't the case here. Catherine and I have barely crossed the line into friendship. We aren't even close to being on a fast track to romance. She's flirted with me, and I've flirted back, but it's never been anything that would raise an eyebrow, or give anyone reason to gossip about us. She's never made a secret of her bi-sexuality, but given her history with Mia I just assumed she was walking...the straight path.Of course, I've got history with Grissom, and yet I've been questioning my sexuality. Becoming slowly and painfully aware that I am attracted to woman. that I'm attracted to Catherine.I can't even figure out what started me down this lonely mental pathway. Usually, I don't even think like this. I prefer to focus on the more concrete realities of daily life, or ponder abstract theories about things that don't really affect me. Thinking about my emotions is not something I do on a regular basis.Hell, the term "emotionally repressed" has my picture next to it in the dictionary. I've been content to slide through most of my life without paying much attention to the idea of having a romantic partner. It's always been easier that way, safer that way. I'm preoccupied with work, not letting myself think too much about having any other life, but there's something about her that's attracting me, piquing my interest. In a way, I can't even explain to myself.It's the little things. The way her forehaed creases when she's worried. The way her deep blue eyes sparkle when she's amused, her rich throaty laugh, the compassion in her heart, and the way she puts people right at ease with a touch on the arm. Like her hands always unobtrusively helping to smooth the rough edges of my life.I keep trying to tell myself that it is not an attraction.That she's just been a good friend to me, and it's not exactly like I've had a whole lot of those in recent years. So I keep telling myself that maybe it's not attraction that I feel for Catherine. I keep telling myself that it's just that I've forgotten what friendship is like. That I've forgotten what it's like to be close to anyone, other than some of the guys at work.But if that's the case, then why do I notice the soft sway of her hips when she walks. The gentle curves of her breasts. The elegance and beauty of her long fingers.Why do I notice that she is beautiful, inside and out. I'd like to keep lying to myself, but I can't any more. Face it Sara, What you feel for Catherine goes a lot deeper than friendship.But even if I admit it to myself, I don't think I can admit it to her. Especially since the chances that a relationship could go anywhere are slim to none. I mean I think she cares for me as more than a friend, but I'm also well aware that it could be wishful thinking on my part. I've never been as adept as most people at reading situations and people. And we still have to work together.

**OK,**

so we don't work together on a daily basis, but we spend a lot of time unraveling clues and cases. We work well together, and I don't want to put that at risk. We're both professionals, and business and pleasure have never mixed.Oh Hell, I'm still lying to myself. I may as well face it, admit the truth to myself once and for all. The problem doesn't have anything to do with whether either of us is straight or whether she cares about me in the same way I care about her. It doesn't even have anything to do with whether pursuing a relationship other than friendship would ruin our ability to work together.The problem is that I'm scared.We're been working together for five years now, and I've seen the signals she gives me. The lingering looks, the little touches that last a bit longer than really necessary, and the flirtatious banter. She has come over any time I've had a problem and needed someone's help.It didn't matter whether I called her at the crack of dawn or the dead of night. She came and never asked if there was someone else I could call. I never wanted it to be anyone else. So, it seems that she is as attracted to me as I am to her.And yet, the knowledge that the attraction is reciprocated isn't what scares me. Though, that is what I would have expected myself to be afraid of. Strangely enough, the fear is not because she's a woman, even though good catholic girls are not supposed to sleep with other girls, and it is also not stemming from some preemptive urge to destroy a potential relationship before it starts in order to avoid the pain that I'd feel, if things end badly. When I allow myself to think about the possibility of a relationship with Catherine, the fear of the end doesn't scare me, and I don't know that we'd last and don't know if this is true love everlasting, but I know Catherine well enough to be certain that no matter what happened, she'd never hurt me. I'm safe with her.I suppose what I should be scared of, is the danger of the job we do. The thousand and one very real pitfalls that line the path of any romance, but I'm not. I mean they do scare me, but it's just that for the first time they don't scare me enough to prevent me from going after what I want.So then why am I sitting at home alone on a friday night, on my night off, aching with thoughts of a beautiful and caring woman and doing nothing at all about, NOTHING AT ALL ABOUT those thougths?

What is it that I'm really afraid of?

**NEED**

I'm scared because I need her so badly. I need her friendship, her respect, her trust, and her quiet understanding. She centers me, balances me. She's been my anchor during one of the most worst times of my life, and I need her.Just the thought of losing her friendship by confessing my attraction to her makes my palms sweat, and my heart rate triple. That's what really scares me, the ldea of losing the one person I need most in this world.

TO BE CONTINUED


	2. Chapter 2

It's not like me to feel this way. I've been in relationships before and I've never, ever needed anyone in quite this way.  
I thought for a while that I needed Grissom, but I didn't, not really.  
I love him. I care for him, and I relied on his strength and his insights, but I didn't need him like this.

Instead, it is Catherine.

I love Grissom. I still love him as my friend like I love the guy, and we've  
got the kind of shared history that creates a lifelong bond, but I've always kept a part of myself hidden from him, and he's always kept secrets from me. He kept telling me that he trusted me, but he didn't, not implictly anyhow, and I think I knew that instinctively long before I could admit it to myself.  
He lied to me and kept thing from me,  
and I did the same thing to him. We just couldn't open ourselves up that completely, not even to each other.

I'm not really sure when my thoughts and feelings changed. I don't even know when I started really looking at them, rather than shoving them away when got uncomfortable, but I know why. It was because of her,  
because of Catherine.

Something about her reached inside my soul and touched me, and it opened my eyes to what love and need were all about. It sounds corny, and I feel like a blithering idiot for even thinking so sappy, but it's true.  
She's been here for me, never once running away no matter how hard things got, and her quiet, caring presence made me see just what had been missing before.

In a strange way, I'm glad I need her as scary as it may be to feel that way. That feeling has filled a hole in my heart that I didn't even know was there, but at the same time, I sometime wish I was still clueless and in denial. Because then no matter how empty I was inside, I wouldn't be so scared. 

TO BE CONTINUED


	3. Chapter 3

And I know I should get up off the couch and stop letting my mind wander down such melancholy pathways.  
I should watch television, and I think Star Trek Voyager is on, or I listen to music - anything to keep me from thinking so damn much.  
I always tend to think too much, but I'm usually analyzing something other than my own feelings.  
I should get up and take a walk to help chase these thoughts out of my brain.  
Especially since I know with a sudden, disturbing clarity that I'm going to take the cowards way out and do absolutely NOTHING about my feelings for Catherine.

I'm going to act as though nothing has changed and hope to god that her friendship will be enough.  
I hate to admit it to myself, but I'm going to let my fear triumph over my NEED.

If it weren't so painful to contemplate, I'd find that last thought incredibly ironic.

I hear the metallic buzz of the doorbell and try not to yelp in surprise.  
Glancing at the clock, I see that it's 10:30 at night.  
I wasn't expecting anyone to drop by,  
and it's not exactly like I get a whole lot of visitors during the more social hours of the day.  
Given my current, somewhat depressed, mood, I'm tempted to ignore the irritating summons,  
but I've be too well schooled in politeness to pretend that I'm not home whan I am.

I slide my slippers onto my feet and pad towards the door.  
Stretching up, I peer through the tiny peephole looking at the distorted face on the other side of my door. 

TO BE CONTINUED


	4. Chapter 4

My heart leapt into my throat when I recognized Catherine's familiar features, and my hands fumble to undo the locks and bolts.  
I can't come up with a single good reason why she's on my doorstep, though my imaginations for her sudden appearance were a different story. I flung the door open and asked what was wrong. She didn't say a word, just stepped inside and shut the door behind her.

I swallow uncomfortably as she stares at me - a look of profound concentration on her face. It almost feels like she is trying to read my mind, and I don't know that I like it.

Abruptly, she breaks eye contact and moves away. I find myself trailing behind her as she walk over to my couch, and when she plops down on the cushions with a thud, folding her hands in her lap and staring at them as though her life depended on it, I settled myself next to her, despite the fact that her very presence sends a flush of awareness through my body. I make sure to leave a little space between us, though we're close enough to touch. She continues staring at her hands as her hair is hiding her expression, and I feel worry rise up to form a lump in the back of my throat. I don't have the slightest idea what to say or do.  
I've seen her confused. I've seen her upset. I've seen her worried. I've never seen her like this,it scares me.

As if she's made some difficult decision, she look up sighs deeply and turns to face me.  
The look in her eyes takes my breath away. If I was uncertain before as to how she felt about me, I'm not now. It's clear that the attraction is not just a fantasized figment of my imagination.  
Her eyes are deep with care and desire, her features twisted in a look of intense longing. NO one has ever looked at me that way. It warms me and soothes away some of the fear that has been keeping me paralyzed.

I use to laugh when people said they didn't need work to know what someoue else was feeling.  
Now I know exactly what they meant.  
Her face is telling the same story as my thoughts: attraction, care, fear...NEED.

I can't see what she reads on my face, but my feelings must be bared to her because she leans forward, her hand gently cupping the back of my neck before kissing me.

Her lips are soft, their touch is tentative as they move ever so slightly against mine. It's not what I expected, and it's terrifying...and it feels so utterly right. I can taste the faint mint flavor of toothpaste as I kiss her back. My lips seeking out the soft warmth of hers. I never act on impulse like this, but something about her supporting hand on the back of my neck is making my normal inhibitions dissipate like mist, or maybe it's just that I've spent so much time thinking about my feelings that I can't pull away from this woman, especially now that I've realized how much I care for her. And in the end, it doesn't matter what the reason is. It just matters that Catherine Willows is kissing me, and I'm kissing her back.

Yes, I am kissing Catherine Willows and loving it.

I reach up, my fingers lightly brushing the hair away from her temple, and I'm vaguely aware that my hand is shaking.  
I'm not even sure if it's from my pentup emotions or from nervousness, maybe both. I open my mouth against hers, feeling the warm wetness of her tongue slide out to taste my lips. IT'S HEAVEN. I decide in an instant, butterflies fluttering in the pit of my stomach with her fingers tightening on the back of my neck, pulling me closer, her tongue just barely teasing my lips, my own hand curling to the back of her neck, aware only of the heat rushing through my body, and the way her touch makes me feel. It's like I've come home.

Long moments later, I pull back, my breath coming out hard. It's amazing that such a simple almost chaste kiss has the blood singing in my veins, and the heat building in my center, and from the deep sheen of desire in her eyes and pink glow on her cheekbones, I'd say it's clear that the feelings are mutual.

My fingers caress her neck slowly as I just look as her, my lips still warm and tingling from the kiss. She is so beautiful, so vibrant, and I almost can't believe that she is here.  
It's not that this is entirely out of the blue. No matter what I've been telling myself, we've both known for months that there's an attraction, but How?..What?..I mean...Why?...Why tonight? Why did she show up at my door tonight? The one night I was able to even think about being with her?

I don't want to break the moment, don't want to interrupt the soft fiutter of her fingers against my skin, but I open my mouth to ask 'The Question' anyhow.  
Information is like air for me, and even now with heat and passion building in me, I still want to know why, but before I can utter a single syllable, her free hand rises thumb stroking against my cheekbone, and the words catch in my throat. It's like her very touch is soothing away the doubts and fears I haven't even figured out yet. My own vulnerability and being able to open myself up to anyone has never come easily, but her presence make me feel safe to be vulnerable, and the fear is smaller now, slinking away at the compassion and understanding in her eyes.

"I...I NEED you, Sara. I don't mean just...sexually,but in every way," her voice trails off, and I feel my heart melt with the beauty of knowing that this is as important and MEANINGFUL to her as it is to me.

"And I had a feeling that tonight...," she breaks off, and I understand everying she's not saying. I don't understand her psychic gifts. I don't think even she understand them, but she's shown herself to be empathic before, and it makes sense to me that she picked up on the tone if not the exact content of my feelings. She's always had an uncanny sense of timing and tonight is no exception.  
It should scare me, but it doesn't.

I swallow hard, and then make the one confession I wasn't sure I could ever make to anyone but myself, "I need you too Catherine."

And then there's no time for more words as her mouth seeks mine again. I shiver with excitement as her hands slowly move down my sides.  
I taste the sweetness of her mouth, my tongue exploring the warm depths, drinking in her soft aroused groan. Deliberately opening myself to her, I place my hands on her shoulders allowing her hands unfettered access to my body, to those places I keep hidden, to my secrets.

She presses me back into the pillows, and my hands slide down her back as hers glide gently under my shirt,  
her fingers cool against the bare skin of my stomach.  
Her mouth is warm against mine. Our lips moving almost desperately to the kiss, I'm barely aware of the low groan in my throat as her agile fingers rub over my breasts.  
Losing myself in her, I give in to my desire...I give in to my NEED.

The End


End file.
